


A Madman's Monologue

by cuddlyharkness



Category: Biohazard - Fandom, Resident Evil
Genre: "i no doubt deserved my enemies, Gen, but i dont beliieve i deserved my friends', inner monologue, known wrongdoings, quote by walt whitman
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-13
Updated: 2014-12-13
Packaged: 2018-03-01 08:25:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 564
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2766317
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cuddlyharkness/pseuds/cuddlyharkness
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>All throughout time, madmen have told tales of their own desires and foolish searches for power...</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Madman's Monologue

All throughout time, madmen have told tales of their own desires and foolish searches for power. Many have never learned their fatal mistakes, never seen the world as it was, as it could be, and how it is. Selfish quests for tyranny, while antagonists meet their fates at the hands of long overseen protagonists in scenery of the most extravagant and systematically illogical type. 

Madmen have little concern for those whom have helped them reach such magnitude, and yet spare the longest moments of critical thought for enemies which build their lives upon crushing the antagonist's operation into fragmented dust, which they should then dance upon like the ashes of dreams. However, destruction should never be the sole purpose of the endeavors of the mad.

As my body begins to burn within the volcanic prison, my mind comprehends the true goals of each individual, regardless of their path or yin or yang, are utterly the same. When one resigns themself to good or evil, when they determine their choices and decide to bask in solely light or darkness, they fate themselves to living or dying with the will of the great univeral scale of ever cosmos, the cruel mistress know as Fate.

When I think back now to the days in which mmy own choice was frail and poorly though out, barely formed like the grey matter of a small fetus, I find myself wondering, quite often, why Fate would pull her strings in such a manner as to give me a choice so tempting as to allow others into my personal life. Quite often, I find myself imagining the faces of those whom Fate doomed so hellishly, should they be alive today. Somehow I find joy in knowing I sared them a life of Hell, such as this petty globe has become, yet I find sorrow, as they were once my companions.

I recall, fondly, from my early days, reading a quuote that no better describes my life view than I could myself. A man, by the name of Walt Whitman, once said: 

"I no doubt deserved my enemies, but I don't believe I deserved my friends."

Whitman's quote has stuck with me until this very moment, and I recall with great fear that I miss how things once were. I desired the wants of madmen, I wonted survival that would never be matched by any mortal means, and my error is so clear now. My fate is long sealed by my own selfish cravings for power, for a tyrants strength, for the sickening cracks of skulls beneath my boots as those who once trusted me were forced to bow, only to be crushed like insects!

,y chest tightens as I consider this. My hear, once solid and cold as a cast away stone, breaks and begins to swell with the warmth of its bleeding nectar as I realize that my fate should have been my own. My choices, my actions, all of it...

Perhaps my fate could never have suffered change. My soul undoubtably would have changed and suffered grave difference should my fate be different. Regardless, my desires ruined something that could have been wonderful...ruined families, cities, lives...

All I can hope is that no one repeats the mistakes of myself. The world has suffered enough at the hands of Albert Wesker, I don't dare think the consequences of another.


End file.
